My Fiancé Made Me Pay $25K for Our Wedding & Didn’t Show Up – The Reason Made Me Merciless

I pictured a fairytale wedding, not a horror movie. Walking down the aisle, I expected to find my prince charming, not an empty altar. Betrayal hit me like a ton of bricks. From that moment, my life became a relentless pursuit of justice. This is my story of heartbreak, revenge, and an unexpected love that defied all odds.

Jeff proposed to me six months ago, and I remember it like it was yesterday. It was a beautiful evening under a starlit sky, his eyes twinkling with excitement as he slipped the ring onto my finger.

A man proposing | Source: Pexels

A man proposing | Source: Pexels

“Phoebe,” he said, “let’s make this the wedding of our dreams.”

Little did I know, that dream would turn into a nightmare.

I always imagined a modest ceremony, something intimate and personal. But Jeff had other ideas.

“It’s once in a lifetime, Phoebe,” he insisted, his persuasive charm hard to resist. “We deserve a gorgeous wedding, something everyone will remember.”

When the time came to discuss finances, Jeff offered a seemingly reasonable solution.

“You handle the wedding expenses, Phoebe. I’m in the process of buying us a house.”

Man and woman walking hand in hand outdoors | Source: Pexels

Man and woman walking hand in hand outdoors | Source: Pexels

It sounded fair to me, so I agreed on a budget of $25,000. We went all out: a lavish venue, and a renowned wedding planner whom I hadn’t even met because Jeff wanted to surprise me.

The big day arrived, and I felt like a princess stepping into the grand hotel. Guests were milling around, but there was no sign of Jeff. My heart pounded in my chest as I scanned the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of my groom.

Beautiful bride standing by a window and looking away | Source: Pexels

Beautiful bride standing by a window and looking away | Source: Pexels

Panic set in. I rushed outside, fumbling with my phone, desperately trying to reach our wedding planner. Finally, she picked up.

“Emily? It’s Phoebe. I’m Jeff’s fiancée. I’m at the hotel, but I can’t find Jeff.”

“Jeff Jenkins?” she replied, her tone sharp and confused.

“Yes!” I almost shouted, my voice trembling.

“Is this some kind of joke? The ceremony was yesterday.”

Her words hit me like a sledgehammer. I felt my knees buckle, my vision blurring. This couldn’t be happening.

A bride texting on her phone  | Source: Midjourney

A bride texting on her phone | Source: Midjourney

Suddenly, a man grabbed my arm, his grip firm yet frantic.

“Get your hands off me!” I demanded, turning to face him.

His face mirrored my shock. “I’m sorry, I’m Mike. I was supposed to get married here today too, but my planner said the ceremony was yesterday. I think we’ve been scammed.”

Mike’s revelation was like cold water splashed on my face. We both entrusted substantial amounts of money, only to be left stranded and humiliated. As the truth began to unravel, I realized that Jeff’s charming persuasion had led us both into a merciless trap.

A bride talking to a man | Source: Midjourney

A bride talking to a man | Source: Midjourney

“Turns out our partners, Amy and Jeff, were lovers. They concocted this plan to fund their own wedding using our money,” Mike revealed, disappointment all over his face.

I stared at him, incredulous. “What? You mean they used us to pay for their wedding?”

“Yes,” Mike confirmed, his voice filled with fury. “And from what I’ve gathered, they’ve disappeared to enjoy a lavish honeymoon on our dime.”

The betrayal hit me hard, but the shock soon turned into a strong determination.

A bride looking away | Source: Midjourney

A bride looking away | Source: Midjourney

“We need to find them, Mike. They can’t get away with this,” I told him.

Fueled by a shared sense of outrage, we pressured the wedding planners, threatening legal action until they finally cracked and confessed where Jeff and Amy had gone for their honeymoon.

“The Maldives,” Emily had said, avoiding our eyes. “An exclusive resort.”

I looked at Mike, determination set in my eyes. “They think they’ve outsmarted us, but they’re in for a surprise.”

Bride talking to a man | Source: Midjourney

Bride talking to a man | Source: Midjourney

We pooled our resources and booked the next flight to the Maldives. The journey felt endless, with each hour fueling our determination. By the time we reached the resort, we were in a storm of anger and conviction.

There, by the pool, lounging like royalty and sipping on expensive cocktails, were Jeff and Amy. They looked blissfully unaware of the storm about to hit them.

Mike clenched his fists. “Time for some payback.”

We approached them, and their carefree laughter died abruptly as they spotted us. Their faces drained of color, shock, and panic flaring in their eyes.

A man and woman sitting by the pool | Source: Midjourney

A man and woman sitting by the pool | Source: Midjourney

Jeff stammered, “Phoebe, what are you doing here?”

I felt a cold smile curve my lips. “Taking back what’s mine.”

We reported them to the resort management, presenting all the evidence of their fraudulent scheme. The staff acted swiftly, kicking them out of the resort with a speed that was almost gratifying.

But that wasn’t enough for us. We wanted to ensure they faced the full consequences of their actions. Mike and I made calls, leveraging social media and legal threats to get them blacklisted from all the resorts in the area.

A man and women at the reception area of a hotel | Source: Midjourney

A man and women at the reception area of a hotel | Source: Midjourney

The crowning achievement, however, was having them arrested for fraud. As they were led away in handcuffs, Jeff turned to me, desperation in his eyes.

“Phoebe, please, this is a misunderstanding!”

I met his gaze with icy resolve. “Enjoy your honeymoon, Jeff. In jail.”

Mike and I celebrated our victory with a bottle of champagne, courtesy of the resort. They felt terrible about the situation and wanted to make amends.

“To justice,” I said, raising my glass.

Mike clinked his glass against mine. “And to never being fooled again.”

A man and woman celebrating with glasses of wine | Source: Midjourney

A man and woman celebrating with glasses of wine | Source: Midjourney

Our victory in the Maldives was just the beginning. Once we returned home, we wasted no time filing a lawsuit against Jeff and Amy, seeking reimbursement for the money they had swindled from us.

The case quickly gained significant media attention, turning our ordeal into a public spectacle. In court, the atmosphere was tense. Jeff and Amy sat on the defendant’s bench, their expressions a mix of defiance and desperation.

People in a courtroom | Source: Midjourney

People in a courtroom | Source: Midjourney

The judge, a stern woman with a no-nonsense demeanor, listened intently as our lawyer laid out our case. Mike and I watched as the prosecution presented mountains of evidence: bank statements, emails, and testimonies from the wedding planners who had finally come clean.

The courtroom was abuzz with whispers and gasps as the extent of Jeff and Amy’s deceit became clear. When it was time for the verdict, the judge didn’t hold back.

A female judge | Source: Midjourney

A female judge | Source: Midjourney

“This court orders Jeff Jenkins and Amy Wilson to repay Phoebe and Mike the full amount of $50,000, plus an additional $10,000 each for emotional damages. This fraudulent behavior will not be tolerated.”

I felt a wave of relief wash over me as the judge’s gavel came down.

“Justice served,” I whispered to Mike.

He nodded, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. “Indeed. Now, let’s move on and enjoy our lives.”

A man and woman looking out the window | Source: Midjourney

A man and woman looking out the window | Source: Midjourney

We walked out of the courtroom, the weight of the ordeal finally lifting from our shoulders. The media swarmed us, but we politely declined to comment, eager to leave the drama behind us.

Over the next few years, Mike and I stayed in touch, supporting each other through the aftermath of the ordeal. Our shared experience created a bond that grew stronger with time. We talked often, shared our ups and downs, and found solace in each other’s company.

Man and woman on a date | Source: Midjourney

Man and woman on a date | Source: Midjourney

One evening, about three years after the court case, Mike invited me over for dinner. As we sat in his cozy apartment, reminiscing about our journey, a quiet moment of understanding passed between us.

“Phoebe,” Mike said, his eyes earnest. “I’ve realized something over these years. You’ve become more than a friend to me. I don’t want to just share memories of our past; I want to build a future together.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Mike, I feel the same way. We’ve been through so much, and I can’t imagine my life without you.”

A man and woman smiling at each other | Source: Midjourney

A man and woman smiling at each other | Source: Midjourney

Our relationship blossomed from that night. We found comfort and love in each other, knowing we had both endured the same betrayal. Our bond grew stronger, and every day felt like a new adventure.

One spring afternoon, as we strolled through a blooming garden, Mike suddenly stopped. He got down on one knee, holding out a ring that sparkled in the sunlight.

“Phoebe, will you marry me?” he asked, his voice filled with hope and love.

Tears of joy welled up in my eyes. “Yes, a thousand times yes!” I exclaimed, pulling him into a tight embrace.

A couple staring at each other against the backdrop of the sunset | Source: Midjourney

A couple staring at each other against the backdrop of the sunset | Source: Midjourney

Our wedding day was everything we had hoped for—modest yet beautiful, surrounded by close friends and family. The ceremony was held in a charming garden, the air filled with the sweet scent of flowers.

As I walked down the aisle towards Mike, I felt a sense of peace and happiness I had never known before. We stood before our loved ones, our hands intertwined, and exchanged vows that came straight from the heart.

Bride walking down the aisle | Source: Midjourney

Bride walking down the aisle | Source: Midjourney

“Phoebe,” Mike began, his voice steady and warm, “I promise to cherish and support you, to laugh with you in times of joy, and comfort you in times of sorrow. You are my best friend, my love, and my partner for life.”

“Mike,” I replied, my voice trembling with emotion, “I vow to stand by your side, to share in your dreams, and to walk with you through all of life’s adventures. You are my rock, my confidant, and my greatest love.”

Bride and groom exchanging vows | Source: Midjourney

Bride and groom exchanging vows | Source: Midjourney

As we shared our first kiss as husband and wife, the applause of our guests echoed around us. It was a moment of pure joy, a celebration of a love forged through adversity.

Later, at the reception, Mike raised his glass for a toast.

“To new beginnings,” he said, his eyes meeting mine with a twinkle.

“And to the sweetest revenge,” I added, clinking my glass with his.

Newlyweds toasting their glasses | Source: Midjourney

Newlyweds toasting their glasses | Source: Midjourney

Our journey, once marked by deceit and betrayal, had transformed into a story of true love. We had turned a nightmare into a dream, finding happiness where we least expected it.

As we danced under the stars, I knew our story had the most epic ending of all—true love and a bright future together.

“Here’s to us, Phoebe,” Mike whispered in my ear, holding me close.

I smiled, feeling the warmth of his embrace. “To us, Mike. Forever.”

Bride and groom dancing during golden hour | Source: Midjourney

Bride and groom dancing during golden hour | Source: Midjourney

Woman Thought Pretending to Be Someone’s Girlfriend at a Wedding Would Be Fun Until She Wished She Hadn’t — Story of the Day

Stuck in an elevator with a stranger was bad enough. But when Lena found out Dylan—a charming, suit-clad mystery man—needed a fake date for a wedding the next day, things got even weirder. A power outage, a bold proposition, and one tempting question: Would she really say yes to a total stranger?

Lena checked her watch for the third time in a minute. Late. Again.

She exhaled sharply, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she strode down the boutique hotel’s hallway.

The air smelled of fresh lilies, their floral sharpness mixed with the faintest trace of citrus and polished wood.

It was the kind of scent that clung to weddings—the kind that brought memories of champagne toasts, aching feet in high heels, and teary speeches that went on too long.

A fitting reminder, considering her best friend had gotten married last week.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Lena reached the elevator and jabbed the button, as if sheer determination could speed up the machinery.

She bounced on her heels, fingers tapping anxiously against the strap of her bag.

The soft chime of the elevator arriving barely registered in her brain before she darted inside.

Just as the doors started closing, a blur of movement caught her eye. A man lunged in after her, his shoulder bumping into hers as her suitcase wobbled dangerously.

“Sorry—” he started, a breathless chuckle in his voice. He straightened, brushing an imaginary wrinkle from his crisp suit.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Lena barely spared him a glance. “No worries.”

And then, everything stopped.

The elevator jerked violently. The lights flickered once, twice, then steadied. The hum of movement vanished.

Lena’s stomach clenched. A thick, loaded silence filled the small space.

She pressed the button repeatedly. Nothing.

“Oh, no. No, no, no,” she muttered, pressing her palm against the cool metal doors as if she could will them open.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Beside her, the man let out a deep sigh and leaned against the wall. “Classic. Always when you’re in a rush.”

Lena finally turned to him fully. Sharp blue eyes. Tousled blond hair. A suit that looked like it belonged on a magazine cover.

A Hallmark movie hero, if she’d ever seen one.

“I take it you have somewhere important to be?” he asked, his lips quirking in amusement.

“A dinner with a friend,” she muttered. “She got married last week. We planned this before I leave town.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Ah,” he nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Funny coincidence. The wedding I’m going to is tomorrow.”

Lena blinked. “Wait. You’re—”

“Dylan.” He extended a hand, palm up, as if this was the most normal introduction in the world. “Groom’s best friend. And emergency wedding date seeker.”

Before she could even process that, the intercom crackled overhead.

“Uh, folks? Seems like we’ve got a small power outage affecting the elevators. We’re working on it. Might take a bit.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Lena closed her eyes briefly. “Perfect.”

Dylan chuckled. “Look on the bright side. At least we’re not alone in here.”

She shot him a look. “Right. Because being stuck with a stranger is somehow better than being stuck alone.”

He shrugged, flashing a lazy grin. “Depends on the stranger, doesn’t it?”

They stood in awkward silence for a moment. The hum of hotel activity beyond the metal doors felt distant, as if they were suspended in time.

Then, out of nowhere, Dylan asked, “So, any chance you’re up for a second wedding in a week?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Lena turned to him slowly, brow raised. “Excuse me?”

“I need a date for the wedding.” He smirked, leaning against the wall like this was just another casual conversation.

“My ex is going to be there, and I’d rather not be the guy sitting alone at the singles table. Think of it as a fake date for a noble cause.”

Lena let out a short laugh. Was this guy serious?

“You’re really asking a total stranger to be your plus-one while we’re trapped in an elevator?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Dylan shrugged, completely unbothered. “So, is it a yes or a no?”

Lena never thought she’d actually go through with it.

The whole thing had sounded ridiculous—a fake date with a man she barely knew, just to help him save face at a wedding. And yet, here she was.

She smoothed her hands down the fabric of her red dress, the one she had almost left hanging in the back of her suitcase.

It wasn’t her usual style—too bold, too eye-catching, too much.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

But something about tonight made her want to be someone else, even if just for a few hours.

Dylan stood beside her, a glass of champagne in one hand, his other resting lightly on the small of her back. Steady, effortless, completely at ease. Unlike her.

She forced a polite smile as yet another guest approached, throwing curious glances her way.

Weddings were strange like that—everyone wanted to know who you were, why you were there, if your presence meant something.

Dylan, on the other hand, played the part perfectly.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

He leaned down, murmuring in her ear, “That woman in the blue dress has been trying to figure out if we’re engaged for the past ten minutes.”

Lena barely stopped herself from laughing. “Should I flash a fake ring just to mess with her?”

His eyes twinkled. “Tempting. But then I’d have to plan an even faker proposal.”

They moved through the ballroom like they had done this a hundred times before—his touch easy, his words charming, his smile like a safety net.

And then there was the dance.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The moment his fingers laced with hers, the moment he guided her into a slow, fluid rhythm, Lena forgot for a second that this wasn’t real.

His grip was firm but gentle, the kind that told her to trust him. The warmth of his palm against her waist sent an unfamiliar shiver down her spine.

This was pretend. She knew that. But something about the way he looked at her—like she was the only person in the room—made it too easy to forget.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

As the bride and groom swayed in the center of the dance floor, Lena tilted her head up. “So, tell me,” she murmured, “what’s the deal with this ex of yours?”

Dylan took a sip of champagne, and for the first time all night, his smile flickered. Just for a second.

“Maya,” he said, rolling the name on his tongue like it was still a part of him. “We dated for a while. Things got… complicated.”

Lena raised a brow. “Complicated how?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

He exhaled slowly, eyes flicking down to the golden liquid swirling in his glass. “She thought I wasn’t serious enough. That I didn’t have time for her.”

“And did you?”

Dylan paused, then let out a dry chuckle. “Maybe not. But I was trying.”

Before Lena could respond, someone called Dylan’s name.

She turned just in time to see her.

Maya.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Lena didn’t need an introduction to know exactly who she was.

Tall. Poised. Beautiful in that effortless way that made other women feel like they were trying too hard.

Her presence filled the room with a quiet kind of power—like she knew she belonged anywhere she went.

And when she reached Dylan, she hugged him.

Not a casual, polite hug. Not an awkward, we-used-to-date hug.

Something in between. Something that made Lena’s chest tighten in a way it shouldn’t have.

She wasn’t supposed to care. This wasn’t real.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

And yet, it sure as hell felt like it was.

The reception was in full swing—laughter, clinking glasses, music that vibrated through the floor—but Lena barely heard any of it.

Her fingers gripped the stem of her champagne glass a little too tightly as she watched Dylan and Maya across the room.

Too close. Too familiar. Too much. Their voices were low, their expressions unreadable. Whatever they were saying, it wasn’t for her to hear.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

And yet, she couldn’t look away.

This was supposed to be a game. A favor. A night of harmless pretending. But now, her stomach twisted, and she hated the feeling.

A shadow moved beside her. “Everything okay?”

Dylan.

Lena blinked, dragging her gaze from Maya. She forced a smile, the kind that didn’t reach her eyes. “Great. You and Maya catching up?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Dylan’s frown was subtle but there. “Not really. She just wanted to check in.”

Check in. Right.

“Lena,” he started, voice softer now, careful. “You know this isn’t—”

“Not real?” she cut in, her heart hammering. “Yeah. I know.”

The words felt wrong.

She swallowed hard. She needed to leave before she made a fool of herself.

“Thanks for the night, Dylan,” she said, turning on her heel. “But I think I’m done playing pretend.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

And then, she walked away.

Lena had her bag packed before the sun had fully risen. She had spent the night convincing herself that walking away was the right choice. No messy feelings. No unnecessary complications. Just a clean break.

But as she slung her bag over her shoulder and stepped into the hotel lobby, her chest felt heavier than it should. Maybe it was just the lack of sleep. Maybe it was something else.

She headed toward the café, craving caffeine and distraction, but fate had other plans.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She turned the corner too fast, and suddenly—collision.

Hot coffee sloshed dangerously close to her dress as Dylan stumbled back, gripping his cup to stop the spill.

“Lena?” His voice was a mix of surprise and something else—something unreadable.

She cursed under her breath. Of course. Of course, she had to run into him now.

“I was just—” she started, but Dylan wasn’t buying it.

“Leaving?” His eyes locked onto hers, sharp, searching. “Without saying anything?”

Lena exhaled, torn between pride and something that felt a lot like longing. “It was just supposed to be a one-time thing, right?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Dylan was silent for a beat, then let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah,” he admitted, voice rough. “That’s what I thought, too.” He hesitated, then took a step closer. “Until I realized I didn’t want it to end.”

Lena’s pulse stumbled. “What?”

“Last night,” he said, his voice softer now, steady, “I watched you walk away, and all I could think about was how much I didn’t want you to go.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Her heart thudded against her ribs. “Dylan—”

“I don’t care about Maya,” he cut in, his tone firm, certain. “I don’t care about anyone else. I care about you.”

Lena wanted to believe him. But doubt—fear—clawed at her. “What if this is just—”

“It’s not,” Dylan interrupted, seeing right through her hesitation. “You feel it, too. Don’t you?”

She swallowed hard.

Yes.

Yes, she did.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

So, for once, she stopped overthinking.

She stepped forward, reached up, and kissed him.

A kiss that was warm. Real. Nothing like pretending.

Dylan smiled against her lips. “Does this mean you’ll stay?”

Lena laughed softly. “Maybe. But only if you promise to stop getting us stuck in elevators.”

Dylan chuckled, his hand slipping easily around her waist. “No guarantees.”

And with that, Lena finally let herself fall.

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